In the Greek myth of Narcissus, the beautiful son of a nymph and river god shirks all real-world responsibilities to gaze at and admire his reflection in the surface of the river. Thousands of years later, people of all generations, classes and cultures cast a similar admiration towards their digital reflection — the social media profiles that are curated to cast an irresistible version of the self — seeking validation of others and worship of self.
At the Art Museum of Southeast Texas, works in Prince Varughese Thomas’ “The Legacy of Narcissus” questions viewers to consider the impact of mass media in the ways we perceive and project our individual self, taking into account this Narcissus complex.
Engaging in a multimedia practice founded in photography, Thomas explores themes of vanity and egotism in mass communication through digital photography, installations, neon work and a video featuring performers and voices from Southeast Texas.
Entering the gallery, the viewer encounters a framed photo of the artist’s hand holding a mid-19th century photo plate. The photo is of a man who has just taken a photo of himself in one of the earliest known “selfies” — a practice taken for granted today where a camera is in everyone’s back pocket.
In the main gallery there are three different series — “What Are Words For,” “Famous to Infamous in 15 Minutes,” and “Masters of the Universe.” These series show a continuity with art historical referents as well as reflect contemporary social changes.
In “What Are Words For,” a grouping of charcoal drawings on Stonehenge paper blends reproductions of William Morris wallpaper patterns from the late 19th-century into backdrops and letter pattern combinations spelling out famous annunciations and tweets from the current administration. Some are straightforward and immediately recognizable, as in the case of “Truth is Not Truth” and “Individual-1.” Other works like “Alternative Facts,” “Nasty Woman,” and even explicit messages have more complicated pattern combinations, concealing words that could be offensive to certain viewers.
Thomas’ next series, “Famous to Infamous in 15 Minutes,” features three self-portraits of the artist disguised as Andy Warhol, referencing the famous pop artist’s desire for fame. Thomas questions, from the artist’s perspective, our hunger for such public recognition and reverence. The works are made of composite images of close-ups of Donald Trump’s face, hands and mouth — nonverbal cues to the utterance and discourses he recounts in his public appearances.
“Masters of the Universe” continues Thomas’ experimentation in photography, featuring digitally manipulated images and video-stills of some of the highest-earning YouTube stars. These pigment prints on rag paper have the effect of brushstrokes on canvas, emulating the oil portrait tradition. These online celebrities are paid through advertising and making personal appearances at various events as a result of accruing millions of subscribers because of the content of their videos. However, these YouTube stars do not appear in the frame of a YouTube screen, but in 17th and 18th-century portraiture. “Portrait of Liza Koshy,” a comedienne who transitioned from YouTube to Hollywood, features Liza in an austere Dutch lace diadem cap and neck ruff, but flashing a contemporary peace sign and sticking her tongue out. Jenna Marbles, another comedienne, takes on the garb of a Rococo princess, her eyes blacked out from crying excessively while wearing eye makeup.
Painted portraits hundreds of years ago were only afforded to the rich at the top of the social hierarchy, with their clothing and iconography designating their elite status. Using their YouTube channels today, the elite of mass media perpetuate glamour and excessive lifestyles, much like in the historical precedents of oil portraiture.
A large, neon sign displays “Social Media is the Opiate of the Masses” — the blue light reflecting on the wall and throughout the gallery indicates the light reflected on the face of a person deeply engrossed in the screen of their smartphone as they scroll through their Facebook and Twitter feeds. “Opiate of the Masses” references the Karl Marx quote, “Religion is the opiate of the masses.” Like Marx’s critical observation of religion, Thomas’ work asserts that social media generates a similar numbing effect to the social injustices in contemporary society.
Two installations in this gallery, cast in the blue glow of “Opiate of the Masses,” illustrate how the means of communication we engage in are one-sided and self-laudatory. “Trophy Shelf” is a small installation of a shelf with matte black trophies with figures engaged in an athletic poses or laurel leaves and No. 1s. Instead of being awards for feats of athleticism or intellect, however, plaques reveal that these are accolades for banal achievements shared on social media, such as “Best Inappropriate Selfie Post” and “Best Personal Reflection of a Celebrity Death Post.”
The other installation, “One Way Conversation (Me, Me, Me. Now what about me),” features a rotary phone with the central number pad occupied by a reproduction of Caravaggio’s 1599 painting “Narcissus.” Every 30 minutes, the phone rings, and the listener is immediately accosted with stream-of-consciousness mumblings of monologues and dialogues, all portraying self-absorbed speakers.
The last work in this gallery returns to photography and features the image of famous feminists Gloria Steinem and Dorothy Pitman made up of composite images of “belfies” — a new genre of selfie featuring tantalizing images of one’s butt. The feminists’ fight for equality decades earlier culminates in a woman’s freedom to send pictures of her backside to whomever she pleases or post to social media for likes and comments from followers.
Curtained off from the second gallery is a third space playing a 10-minute video, “America the Beautiful.” It features three Lamar University singers, each taking a turn on stage performing classic national tunes, including “America the Beautiful,” “God Bless America” and the “Star-Spangled Banner.” During each performance, the singer — who is a minority — is interrupted by overlapping voices hurling insults ranging from personal to political. The singers stop and stare at viewers as angry voices utter one-liners insulting their appearance and exhorting them to “return to their own country.” Much in the style of social media platforms, commentators are protected by the anonymity of the computer screen to spew hate speech at fellow users.
Thomas’ show, in all of its different presentations, presents a cautionary tale of the pitfalls of self-obsession— after all, Narcissus met his demise because of his inability to stop staring at his own reflection.
“The Legacy of Narcissus” is on view through Dec. 1.
AMSET is located at 500 Main St. in downtown Beaumont.
For more, visit www.amset.org.
Story by Caitlin Duerler, ISSUE contributor